Away with you, water, destruction of wine!

I can imagine no greater misfortune for a cultured people than to see in the hands of the rulers not only the civil, but also the religious power.

Ah, what is more blessed than to put cares away, when the mind lays by its burden, and tired with labor of far travel we have come to our own home and rest on the couch we longed for? This it is which alone is worth all these toils.

But you shall not escape my iambics.

What a woman says to an eager lover, write it on running water, write it on air.

Oh, this age! How tasteless and ill bred it is!

For the godly poet must be chaste himself, but there is no need for his verses to be so.